a penny for your thoughts
by EchoMoonHuntress
Summary: and in this room with the starlight sky, we can finally hear ourselves. - The unlockable characters and speaking with the voices they never knew they had. On brief hiatus.
1. it starts when you're alone

**Look, my first ever multi-chaptered fanfic. Yay.**

**Anyways, this fanfic is about the unlockable characters in SSB4, on what they are thinking before and when they are battling you. I've had this idea for awhile now, but I just never got around to writing it. I haven't even started planning the second chapter yet, lol.**

**Also, updates come unpredictably. I could update within the next day or a month, I don't know. So don't expect me to update every single day, sorry. However, I _can_ say that the next update won't be in the next few days, because I have a bunch of school stuff going on, and during this time I will have no access to any writing tools. But I can still review, so if you see me around, I'm not procrastinating on this, I just can't write.**

**Falco might be a little OOC, sorry. It goes in the order in which the respective Smashers challenge you, which means Falco is first, Wario is next, etc.**

**Okay, onto the fanfic, and I don't own anything. Thanks for reading the first chapter.**

* * *

It won't be long, they tell him. Ten battles have to be fought and then he can challenge them, they tell him. It should go by quick, they tell him.

And Falco scoffs when they say this because it's such a stupid thing to say to him, because _of course _it won't be quick. Not quick enough for Falco Lombardi, who likes speed, and who _knows_, perhaps better than anyone, that he will be locked(trapped) in this room for a long, long time.

But before he can get these words out of his mouth—before he can get _any_ words out of his mouth—_they_ (Fox Mario Link Samus Kirby Pikachu) are gone and he's in this room, utterly alone. And then he's cursing himself for not opening his mouth quick enough ("stupid, Lombardi, _stupid_!") and sits down on the cold, tiled floor. There is no roof overhead, so that way he can keep an eye out for a blue portal in the sky that will signal him to challenge an opponent.

He tells himself _not to look at the sky_, but he does anyways and searches the horizon for the blue entrance, but of course there is nothing up there. Nothing will ever be there, he reminds himself, for a long time. Only the dark canvas dotted with bright-bright stars will be there when he looks up.

But that doesn't stop him anyways, and he constantly checks the sky, over and over, _waitingwishinghoping _that the shimmery blue portal would appear.

It's not until the thirtieth time he looks does he realize that he only wants the portal appear because he is _lonely. _

Falco Lombardi is used to being alone, but he doesn't _like_ being alone. It's a reason why he's so arrogant—he wants people to pay attention to him, to hang out with him—

—but he knows that being loud and arrogant doesn't make people want to hang out with you, it only scares them away. But he has always hidden this knowledge away, piling a bunch of excuses on top of it so that way he would never have to hear the truth.

But there is no point in hiding it anymore because this is the first, second, third time he's been thrown in an empty room and told to stay put, and his pile of excuses have come crashing down—he is lonely and that is final.

* * *

(the truth is hard to hear, but it's even harder when you have to hear it **alone**.)

* * *

He looks up and is astonished to see the blue portal, shimmering slightly in the sky.

Without thinking any further, he jumps into it.

* * *

Falco looks around at the Gate Orbital Assault map and smiles when he sees that Marth is his opponent—and then he scowls, because Marth has always, _always_ been an unlockable character (just like him) and now he isn't, and it sickens Falco because they let Marth stay, they let _Marth_ stay-

_Is it because I'm not human? Is it because I'm __**ugly? **_He wants to scream, but he doesn't, and instead gets into his fighter stance.

Funny, he doesn't feel like fighting now.

* * *

Marth has been nerfed from the last competition; he used to be extremely **deadly**_**,**_ but now he isn't and Falco is glad, because he couldn't take Marth on one-on-one last time.

That isn't to say that Marth isn't downright terrible though, because he still is pretty good. But at least he's equal to Falco now, so the fight will be long and fair.

But Falco doesn't want a long fight. He wants someone to win or lose this battle—but he's not sure which one he wants to be, the winner or the loser.

And Falco Lombardi realizes he has two options:

1\. He could lose to Marth, throw the whole thing out the window, and never be alone again (for awhile, anyways). But it would definitely hurt his pride and his ego, which are both pretty big and important to him. And Fox would probably never stop teasing him about it too, how he lost his very first battle on the turnaround, which was uttermost _torture_.

2\. He could win this thing, and knock Marth out, then be locked in that room with the dotted stars and seemingly neverending midnight sky until Marth tires him in each battle until finally, he is worn out. But that would mean that he would be in that room for awhile, and he would get even lonelier as the days would pass.

He has a choice, and the outcome isn't great either way.

But then Falco remembers the room with the eternal sky and how lonely he gets in there, how he feels vulnerable and awful and horrible.

And that feeling is definitely worse than his hurt pride and Fox's taunting words.

So Falco lays his gun down, and watches as Marth's sword nears closer and closer until it fatally stabs him.

It hurts (a lot), but Falco looks down sees the wavy crimson lines, running along the side of him.

He grins. Marth has just KO'ed him. Falco won't return to that room, not for a long, long time.

Falco Lombardi has picked the first option.


	2. you're already insane

**Writer's block, sorry. It was hard writing about Wario, because I had no ideas for him. Falco was based originally on his speed (because of his powers, **_**don't**_** bring up Sonic), but then it turned into loneliness, whereas Wario is best known for being able to pass gas. Like I would write about that. It's not edited _too_ well, so one day I might come back and edit it. And I'll probably edit the chapter title later as well.**

**Btw, for the guest who wanted to use the idea: well, sure, go ahead, but if you could give this fanfic (not necessarily me, but the story) a bit of credit, that'd be nice :)**

**I have a lot of projects due next week, so Dark Pit's chapter will be put off for a bit. Yes, Dark Pit, not Lucina. I'll explain it in the next author's note.**

**Don't own anything, and you didn't have to read this, lol. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

This room is very plain. It has white walls and a white bed and a black ceiling. The sky, Wario knows, because that's where he will jump through to challenge someone—but it's still pitch-black and it looks _uglyuglyugly_, like a big black hole.

It reminds Wario of himself—big, ugly, different from everything else and its surroundings.

He laughs at that. Maybe Mario put him in here on purpose, so he could see the sky and realize that he is similar to it, big and wide and heartless. He is quite certain Mario ordered the others to put him in here, so he could _see_ it, the big picture.

It isn't necessary, though. Wario already knows he's insane. He knows that Mario thinks that Wario is unaware of his craziness—he's seen it in the short plumber's eyes—but Mario is wrong for once, dead wrong. You just _know_ when you lose your mind. You feel your brain changing and all of a sudden everything looks funny and seems funny and everything is too bright and then you feel like screaming or laughing at random moments. It was at this moment when Wario realized it; _oh wow, I really __am__ insane._

But Mario didn't know that. Mario isn't crazy. He hasn't gone through what Wario has. But that's okay. One day Mario will, and Wario will relish the fact when he does.

It's a sick thought.

It's a demented thought.

But for Wario, it's just a normal thought.

* * *

_(i can feel it in my bones—i am weird, i am sick, i am _**crazy**_.)_

* * *

His eyes adjust to colors—red, yellow, blue. The red and yellow fade in and out, but the blue is permanent, and Wario knows it's time.

He springs to his feet and jumps in.

* * *

His opponent is Ness and Wario is relieved—he is just an innocent little boy, Wario can play with him for a little bit.

And he does, when Ness tries to use his telepathic thunder on him and all he does is dance around the edges, watching the thunder crackle near him, but never touch him.

Wario keeps his distance, careful not to touch the boy's skin. He picks up items and calls them out, but never touches a hair on Ness's head with his own, stubby fingers. Not yet. Not yet. He has to wait.

And then he sees his chance—Ness is vulnerable, tired, an open window—

—he comes down on Ness, pulling the boy's head in his mouth and shaking him around. He can taste something metallic on his tongue, and he releases Ness, licking his lips.

He mounts his motorcycle and circles the boy, a cloud of dust forming on the stage. It flies into his eyes and it stings, tears forming in his eyes, making him want to cry. But he laughs instead.

And then white crackling energy comes out of nowhere and hits the front wheel, and Wario catapults forward, landing on the stage rather painfully. He can see the torn pink fabric, wilting to the side, the stitches torn apart, and the small scrape on his knee. It hurts, but that's okay. He likes pain.

And then there's a loud explosion—it hurts his ears—and Wario knows that it's his motorcycle, exploding into bits and pieces; he can see the yellow and black parts fly up in the air and disappear, the tires blowing out and burning, orange taking over the rubber, the flames licking it hungrily.

And he can hear a boy scream, a terrified, helpless scream, and he knows that it's Ness, it _has_ to be Ness—

—and Wario laughs.

* * *

He is still laughing when he returns to the white room, and doesn't stop until the end comes to him.


	3. and nobody taught you the rules

**A wild update appeared!**

**Yeah I'm sorry, but writer's block slammed into my face and on top of that, I don't really feel like writing for SSB. I'm going to finish this (I will. I will) but the updates are going to come at a slower pace than usual (SLOWLY). Capeesh?**

**That aside, this is a Dark Pit chapter, because he challenged me after I lost to Lucina once. Then he kept challenging until I beat him. He might be OOC, because I don't really have a feel of his character. I think his character literally changed within the paragraphs, sorry. I started writing this in May and then ditched it for 3 months.**

* * *

He's not a patient one. That's what everyone whispers behind his back.

Dark Pit does not see the point of gossip, especially if the gossip is about him. He can take the crap flung at his face, because all of it (most of it, some of it) is _true_. He can face the truth, anyways. It's what he morally believes in. Dark Pit is a lot of things, but the _liar_ is not one of them.

He knows when he's being lied to as well. And he knows that the veterans were lying when they said he wouldn't be here long.

He doesn't like this room. Didn't like it when he stepped in, and gets the feeling he won't _ever_ like it. It scares Dark Pit, too. The room is too small and too plain and too bright. He blends in with the night sky overhead, not with this white room, where he doesn't belong.

Dark Pit doesn't belong anywhere, really. No one accepts him, he doesn't accept them, and life rolls on. He has made quite a few mistakes in his life, but he won't ever learn from them. He's too immature (stupid, clumsy, rebellious) to learn from them. Nobody taught him what was wrong and what was right, after all. So all he does is break the rules/morals of both sides, and wait and see the consequences.

He looks up at the sky and snorts. So what makes everyone think that he can(will) stay in this room? It makes his heart pound, it makes his breathing quicken, all a little too fast and a little too loud. The veterans just assumed he would stay in there, abide time and listen to them.

Yeah, right.

Nobody knows it, but the word rebellious fits Dark Pit's description perfectly, and he is not going to wait around for a blue portal.

* * *

_(bad bad bad _**bad**_ is just one way to describe him__)_

* * *

Dark Pit looks at the sky—pitch black, twinkling white in certain areas. One star shines brighter than all of them. Small, but Dark Pit has always had good aim.

Without blinking, the dark angel lifts up his bow, notches an arrow into his bow. Then it's aim, set, fire.

The arrow soars up in the sky, disappearing among the sky, and for a second, everything is still, everything is quiet.

Then he hears a tinkling sound—the sound of something delicate and fragile, something glassy, shattering into a thousand pieces.

The black sky rips apart, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of something—another world, another life.

Without thinking, he flies through.

* * *

The first thing he sees is Captain Falcon, and he is alone on a platform. There is sweat pouring down his face and he's breathing really, really, hard.

Dark Pit sneaks upon him silently, _quietly_, like a shadow, and then raises his bow, carefully. But he won't shoot, not until Falcon turns around. He's not _that_ ruthless.

Yet.

He purposely stomps his foot on the ground, and Captain Falcon whirls around. He's wearing a mask, but judging from the surprise in his tone, Dark Pit would not doubt to think that his eyes almost fell out of his head. "What are you doing here?" he sputters. "This girl just challenged me-"

"Did you really think I was going to wait?" He releases the arrow, and it's a dark whiz as it pierces Falcon's clothes. He yelps, and Dark Pit takes the opportunity to leap on him.

Captain Falcon struggles. He says, "That's not how the rules go, that's not what supposed to happen, that's not _tradition_-"

Dark Pit bares his teeth in a smile. "Yeah, well," he says. "Fuck tradition."

* * *

He could go down easily, it's clear from the start that whoever Captain Falcon just fought is quite powerful. Dark Pit is lithe, agile, jumping, flying, and he gets beat up a few times by a flaming punch or so, but Captain Falcon moves slowly, tiredly, as his moves get progressively sloppier and proceed to miss Dark Pit.

Dark Pit drags out the fight, though. He could easily knock Captain Falcon off the platform, but he tells himself that really, he just wants a taste of freedom, just a little longer.

(But in reality, he knows, somewhere deep, that he doesn't quite have the heart to hurt the veteran. It's strange, it's weird, but Dark Pit honestly just can't punch the guy out of the arena.)

(And Dark Pit really, really, hates that.)

But every time he charges up, a move that he's ready to punt, he just looks at Captain Falcon. He didn't ask for this surprise fight, like how Dark Pit never asked to be thrown in a white room.

But he destroyed that tiny white room. There's nothing to go back to, except for the sky falling into pieces. He wonders if that means Captain Falcon will win. He sincerely hopes he does not.

Something clatters to the ground just then, and Dark Pit picks it up. A land mine, explosive. He looks at Captain Falcon, breathing heavily, and chucks it a few feet in front of him without a second thought.

Captain Falcon—so slow, so stupid, so _tired_—steps on it, and for a second, all Dark Pit can see is orange smoke, burning hot.

And in the next second, Dark Pit can see Captain Falcon, flying so, so, far away, a wave of dark lines surrounding him. Dark Pit assumes that means game over.

He broke the rules, so he won't go back to the white room. Dark Pit sits down on the map. Dimly, he realizes that all he did was just trap himself in a different place, a different map, but he's too tired to even think about that.

He finds out he can see the sunset on this map. He watches the darkness engulf the map, and it's only when the sun's friendly glow fades away does he realize that his cheeks are wet.


End file.
